The dusty road under my boots felt more like a pilgrimage site than a simple path. This was the dirt of Kanto, the region where the modern age of Pokémon training truly took its first step. I looked at the rolling green hills and the white-fenced pastures in the distance.
History says that Pallet Town was originally named "Pure White Town," a name that perfectly captured the blank slate of a new trainer's journey. It was eventually renamed to honor a local legend, Palleto Oak—the great-great-grandfather of the current Professor Oak.
Even though he "only" ranked 931st among ten thousand elite trainers in his time, back then, that was a feat of Herculean strength. In a world without the internet or easy travel, breaking into the triple digits meant you were a force of nature.
Now, the town is the home of the world-famous Oak Laboratory. It's where the "Pure White" meets the "Red and Blue" of a starting journey.
I stood on the outskirts, sweating slightly as I looked back toward Route 1.
"I'm going to write such a nasty review on the bus company's website," I muttered, wiping my forehead. "The ticket said 'Vermilion to Pallet Town.' It did not say 'Vermilion to the edge of Route 1 followed by a thirty-minute hike because the bus is too fat for the road.' Liars. All of them."
I paused at a particularly scenic overlook where the town was framed perfectly by the distant ocean and the lush forests.
"Okay, despite the walking, this angle is incredible. We need a photo."
I released Sylveon and Floette. Sylveon immediately began sniffing the Kanto grass, her ribbons fluttering in the fresh air, while Floette hovered above a patch of local wildflowers, looking delighted.
"Everyone, look over here! Smile for the Kanto debut!"
Click. The photo was perfect—me in the center, Sylveon leaning against my leg, and Floette perched on my shoulder, with the red-roofed houses of Pallet Town in the background. After the shot, I recalled them to avoid any unnecessary "What Pokémon is that?" questions from the locals, and headed into town.
Pallet Town was surprisingly quiet. It wasn't like Jubilife or Vermilion; it had a sleepy, rural charm where everyone seemed to know everyone else. The houses were spread out, each with a large backyard for Pokémon to roam.
I walked past several white-walled cottages, trying to find a specific house—maybe one with a recognizable mailbox—but they all looked so similar that I gave up on my "celebrity house hunt" pretty quickly.
I made a beeline for the most obvious building in town: the Oak Laboratory, with its towering windmill and sprawling ranch. I walked up to the front door and pressed the buzzer.
Silence.
I pressed it again. Still nothing.
"Great. I travel across the ocean and the man isn't even home," I sighed.
I spotted a kind-looking elderly woman tending to her garden next door and waved. "Excuse me! I'm looking for Professor Oak. Do you know if he's in today?"
"Oh, the Professor?" She straightened up, wiping her hands on her apron. "He's not in the lab right now, dear. He's taken a group of children up to the back mountain for an event. It's that time of year again!"
"The back mountain? Thank you so much!"
I knew exactly what she was talking about. Professor Oak's Pokémon Summer Camp. It was a legendary event where kids from all over—some traveling thousands of miles—came to learn the basics of Pokémon before they were old enough to get a license.
I hurried toward the wooded hills behind the laboratory, the sound of the wind through the trees drowning out my footsteps.
As I trekked through the dense forest of the back mountain, the quiet was suddenly shattered by a high-pitched, desperate cry.
"Everyone! Everyone, where are you?!"
The voice was young, panicked, and distinctly female. I picked up the pace, my researcher instincts kicking in. Suddenly, there was a loud rustling in the bushes up ahead. A small girl in a pink dress and a straw hat adorned with a pink bow jumped back in terror, tripping over a tree root and tumbling hard onto the grass.
A small, blue Pokémon with a spiral belly and a wagging tail hopped out of the brush.
"Poliwag?" the little girl whimpered, her eyes filling with tears. The Poliwag didn't stick around; it hopped away into the thicket, leaving the girl alone.
"That's why I said I didn't want to come to this camp!" she sobbed, clutching her knee. "Mommy!!!"
"Sounds like someone's in trouble," I whispered, breaking into a jog. "I'm coming!"
But I wasn't the first one on the scene. From a different part of the bushes, a young boy emerged, breathing hard as if he had been chasing the very Poliwag that just fled. He was wearing a red and yellow vest and had a look of pure, stubborn determination on his face.
He stopped when he saw the girl crying on the ground.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his voice full of energy. "My name is Ash. What about you? What happened?"
"I... my leg is hurt," the girl sniffed, looking up at him.
"Are you okay?" the boy—Ash—asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue handkerchief embroidered with tiny Poké Balls. "Don't worry! When this kind of thing happens..."
I watched from behind a thick oak tree, frozen. I knew this scene. I knew this handkerchief.
Ash knelt down and carefully bandaged the girl's knee. "There!"
"Ah! That hurts!" she cried out.
"Oh, right! I'll give you a magic spell!" Ash started waving his hands and legs in a bizarre, goofy dance around her. "Ouchie, ouchie, go away! Healing magic, save the day!"
I stepped out from behind the tree, my boots crunching on the leaves. The two kids didn't notice me yet; they were caught in their own little world.
"It hurts... I can't stand up," the girl cried, trying to move.
Ash didn't let go. He grabbed her hand and looked her right in the eyes with that famous, bone-headed confidence. "You can't give up until the very end! Come on!"
With a sudden, forceful pull, he hauled her up. The girl stumbled forward, landing right in his arms.
"See? You're standing up now! Hehe!" Ash flashed a huge, gap-toothed grin. "Let's hurry back to the campsite!"
I stood there, completely speechless.
What the heck? I thought. I just got to Pallet Town and I'm already being force-fed a romantic movie scene? They look like they're seven years old! Is the Kanto water spiked with romance hormones? I feel like I just walked into a 'Childhood Sweetheart' anime trope and I'm the awkward extra in the background.
I coughed loudly to announce my presence. "Um, excuse me? Kids?"
The two of them stopped and turned around. Ash was still holding the girl's hand, looking back over his shoulder.
"Do you know where Professor Oak—" I started to ask, but as their faces came into full view, my brain short-circuited.
The boy was unmistakable—those lightning-bolt markings on his cheeks, that messy black hair. And the girl... the honey-blonde hair, the pink straw hat, the way she was looking at him like he had just hung the moon.
"Holy cow!" I blurted out, the curse word slipping out before I could stop it. "It's really them!"
The "Silly Thing" himself and the future Queen of Kalos, Serena. I had walked right into the legendary moment that started a thousand fan theories.